


Lines In The Sand

by fen-ha-fuck-you (abldav)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Minor Bellamy Blake/Echo, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Bellamy Blake, POV Clarke Griffin, how many tags do i need to put before you realize there will be angst, if by minor you mean Number One Source Of Angst then sure it's minor, if not then fuck me i guess, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-06-06 03:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15185543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abldav/pseuds/fen-ha-fuck-you
Summary: “You looked like you were gonna hurl when you got up,” Raven said, pausing for a moment. “I’m not sure this is better.”Clarke shook her head minutely, finally looking up at herself in the mirror. She quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen. She hadn’t even noticed. “I’m fine.”“No,” Raven replied, her eyebrows scrunching together. “You’re not.”“I just… had a little too much to drink. That’s all.”“That why you’re strangling that poor sink?”a.k.a. modern blarke angst because that's what i'm about son





	1. Thesis

**Author's Note:**

> fic title from [even if it hurts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SqaNhYIxF0I) by sam tinnesz
> 
> I had a dream last night where chapter one happened (but in that weird dream way where it didn't, really) and I was both echo and clarke at the same time and then I couldn't get it out of my head so here we are
> 
> also a multichapter fic that I'm _actually_ going to finish because i've already written it out so that's a first
> 
> and this isn't beta-ed so any mistakes are my own and i don't care

Clarke pushed her way into the bar bathroom, struggling to keep her breath even, and wondered if things were always going to be like this. She leaned over the sink, her hands gripping the grimy ceramic so tight they were almost white. Her eyes slid closed, taking deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth, just like he’d had taught her. 

Her breaths faltered when the door opened again, Raven stepping cautiously into the room. She turned and closed the door behind her as soon as she saw Clarke’s face, locking it with a decisive flip.

“You looked like you were gonna hurl when you got up,” Raven said, pausing for a moment. “I’m not sure this is better.”

Clarke shook her head minutely, finally looking up at herself in the mirror. She quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen. She hadn’t even noticed. “I’m fine.”

“No,” Raven replied, her eyebrows scrunching together. “You’re not.”

“I just… had a little too much to drink. That’s all.” 

“That why you’re strangling that poor sink?” Raven asked, finally making her way to her friend.

Clarke felt more tears well up in her eyes. Raven placed a gentle hand on her arm.

“Talk to me, Griffin.”

Clarke shook her head gently. “I can’t… I...”  

Raven watched her intently for a moment before replying softly. “Should I get Bellamy?”

“ _ No! _ ” Clarke exclaimed, the word coming out with more force than either of them was expecting. She took a step back, folding her arms around herself and closing her eyes again, desperately holding back the tidal wave of emotion she knew was coming. 

Raven’s eyes widened in recognition. “It’s  _ about _ Bellamy.”

“Raven,” Clarke said, the name nothing more than a choked sob.

“Come here,” she said, already sitting Clarke down against the wall. 

Clarke immediately pulled her knees up to her chin. Raven took a minute to join her, her leg brace taking some maneuvering. When she finally made it to the floor, Clarke rested her head on her friend’s shoulder.

There were different levels to Clarke’s breakdowns. She’d ranked them herself, in her head. Stage One, a small swell of emotion in her chest and tears that built up, but didn’t always fall. Stage Two was the most numerous: lots of tears, lots of tissues, and a whole lot of facial blotching. Stage Three… Stage Three was where she was at now, and knowing that fact almost always made her feel even worse.

When Stage Three happened, all outside expression broke down. Her face froze in a mask of indifference, but tears fell constantly without even blinking. An emotional punch in the chest so deep it gave her a headache. Any feeling not being expelled through tears made her whole body shake.

Raven had seen her like this before. Just the once. Clarke had been with her friends when she’d gotten the call. Her father was shot during a hit and run and was pronounced dead at the scene. 

She didn’t remember much from that night, the shock blocking out most of what happened after. But she remembered Bellamy. The pressure of his arm around her as she cried on the floor of his living room. The rumble of his chest as he’d softly, but sternly, told everyone to leave. The texture of the shirt he was wearing that night, pressed against her face as her tears soaked in. He didn’t say a word. He just held her. It was exactly what she needed.

God, she wished that would help now.

“I love him, Ray,” she said, her voice gravelly.

“I know.”

Clarke shook her head. “I’m  _ in _ love with him, Raven.”

“I know,” she repeated, softer, taking her hand.

“How long have you known?” 

“How long have  _ you _ ?” Raven asked, looking over at her.

“Just over a year.” The words hung in the air as the gravity of the situation sunk in.

“ _ Clarke _ ,” Raven started.

“I know,” Clarke said. 

Another heavy moment passed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Raven asked.

“I couldn’t.”

Raven nodded. “I take it you haven’t told him?”

“Almost,” Clarke said, barely audible.

“When?”

“The night he told me he made things official with Echo,” she said, her voice cracking.

“ _ What? _ ” 

“He came over. We both said we had news. He went first.”

“Clarke—”

“We celebrated.”

“Will you—”

“ _ Don’t _ , Raven,” Clarke begged. “I don’t want pity. I don’t even want sympathy, I just want…”

“You just want…?” Raven asked, tearing up.

“I want him to be happy,” Clarke replied through tears. “And he’s happy. He is. And he deserves that.” 

“You deserve to be happy, too.”

Clarke nodded. “Maybe. But no matter how you look at it, that doesn’t come without Bellamy being hurt first.”

“You  _ know _ that’s not what he—”

“I bear it, so he doesn’t have to.”

Raven let out a deep breath and put her arm around her friend. Clarke laid her head on her shoulder again.

“What happened out there?” Raven asked after a moment.

“I saw his face.”

“You see his face all the time,” Raven pointed out.

“I saw his face when he looked at her,” Clarke said.

Raven squeezed. 

“Usually I can get a handle on it, but… I don’t know. I thought it’d get easier.”

The two sat there in silence.

“It hurts, Raven.”

“I know.”

A minute passed, then two. There was no knock at the door, and for that much Clarke was thankful. She stood and turned to help Raven up, then went to one of the sinks to regain some kind of presentability.

Behind them, one of the toilets flushed.

Clarke froze.

Dread dug its way deep into her bones at the squeak of the stall door.

Raven’s barely audible, “oh my god,” told Clarke all she needed to know.

If she didn’t know any better, Clarke would say that Echo approached the next sink over  _ hesitantly _ . 

A tense minute went by as she washed her hands. The sound of the running tap and muffled cheering of one of their friends probably winning at pool filled the room. The silence that descended when Echo turned the water off was overwhelming. Raven handed her some paper towels.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, not making eye contact. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was about to leave when you came in, and it just… It seemed like you needed a minute.”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Clarke choked out.

“And it somehow felt like  _ more _ of an invasion of privacy for me to… not say anything. After.”

“Sure,” Clarke replied. 

Raven looked between them with wide eyes. 

“So—” Echo began.

“Happy belated anniversary,” Clarke said, walking around her and through the door.

She made brief eye contact with Bellamy as soon as she exited the bathroom, which, judging by the worried look that immediately washed over him, bode ill for her plan to get the fuck out of there, right now, immediately. 

“Come on,” Raven said, taking Clarke by the arm and moving to lead her outside.

Clarke sensed rather than heard Bellamy coming over, and closed her eyes for the impact, trusting Raven not to lead her straight into a wall.

“She’s not feeling well,” Echo stopped him as Clarke and Raven made it outside, her voice surprisingly convincing. “Raven’s got her.”

Raven shoved Clarke into the passenger seat of her car before she could analyze  _ that _ too thoroughly, and they took off without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> other chapters will be longer. maybe. probably. who knows
> 
> comments feed my family
> 
> come visit me on tumblr at fen-ha-fuck-you if you want


	2. Antithesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the clueless bellamy we all know and love

Bellamy had barely heard from Clarke since that day at the bar. Not for lack of trying on his part. She either left his texts on read or sent one-word replies. She bailed on their weekly movie night. She’d stopped ignoring his calls, and had started hanging up before the second ring was even finished. It stung more than he cared to admit.

He didn’t know what he’d done wrong, and he was worried. Quite frankly, it was driving him fucking insane.

“Stop pacing, Bellamy,” Echo said from her spot at his dining table, not looking up from her laptop. 

“I just don’t understand,” he replied, frustrated. “I barely even got to talk to her at the bar, and I’d get it if she was upset about that, but she won’t talk to me  _ now _ which makes that not make sense.”

Echo shut her computer with a soft click and came over to him, letting him rant.

“Is she still sick? Has Raven told you anything? Because she won’t say a word to me about her. Should I send her some soup or something?”

“Bellamy,” Echo said. 

He stopped and turned to her. 

“Just…” she started, shaking her head slightly. “Go to her.”

“But—”

“Go to her apartment. You  _ need _ to talk to her.”

Bellamy’s brows furrowed. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s not my business,” Echo replied cryptically. 

“She’s my best friend, Echo.”

It wasn’t until she took a step back that Bellamy realized just how forcefully that had come out. He ran a hand down his face, and he let out a breath.

“She’s my best friend,” he repeated, softer. “She’s the… one of the most important people in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without her, and now she’s shutting me out and won’t even… I did something to hurt her and she won’t even let me apologize.”

Echo tilted her head. “What did you do?”

“ _ I don’t know!  _ Because she won’t talk to me!” he shouted, running a hand through his hair. “But obviously I did  _ something _ to upset her, but I don’t know what that could  _ be _ because usually when I do something to upset her she barges in and yells at me about it, but now she’s just gone radio silent, so I don’t…! I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“So why don’t you go to her?”

“Because…” he closed his eyes. “I can take the texts. I can take her ignoring my calls, but I can’t... I’m not strong enough to handle it if she just shuts the door in my face.”

A moment of silence passed before Echo spoke again.

“You love her.”

Bellamy let out an exasperated sigh. “Of course I do.”

When he looked back at Echo she was giving him a look he didn’t recognize. 

“Then talk to her.”

But he didn’t. Against his better judgment. 

He gave her time. 

Three. 

Fucking.

Weeks.

Of time. 

He’d sent her a final text beforehand telling her that he was going to stop bothering her, and to call or text if she needed anything. She hadn’t replied. 

Bellamy hadn’t been a fun person to be around since then. He knew that. But he was hopeless to do anything about it. Nothing felt  _ right _ anymore. Everything was just a little off-kilter. 

He’d stood at his fridge with the door open for a solid five minutes just staring at the unopened bottle of horrible red wine no one but Clarke liked, wondering if she was ever going to come back to drink it. He checked his phone obsessively one night because there was a storm, and she’d usually facetime him when the weather was that bad and she got all tense. 

He was full of restless energy. He felt like he should be  _ doing _ something, but he didn’t know what the hell that was, so instead it manifested in the form of snapping at his friends. And Echo.

“I can’t,” she said, finally losing her cool and throwing a spoon into the sink.

“What?” he snapped back.

“I can’t do this. I thought I could. I can’t.”

“Can’t do  _ what? _ ”

“ _ This _ ,” Echo replied, gesturing between them. “Whatever this is.”

“What do you mean, ‘ _ Whatever this is? _ ’”

Echo closed her eyes and sighed. 

“When,” she started, “are you going to admit to yourself that you’re in love with her?”

Bellamy froze. Blinked. Again. His jaw clenched.

“Clarke,” Echo clarified.

“I know who you’re talking about,” Bellamy said, his voice flat.

“You do?” she asked, her brow raised.

“Who told you?” 

“Who… who  _ told _ me?” Echo’s voice raised an octave. “Who knows?”

“Officially? No one,” Bellamy said, his eyes suddenly looking very tired. “Unofficially? Everyone but Clarke.”

“So, I’m… your attempt to get over her?” Her voice was more curious than judgemental.

“At first,” Bellamy admitted, sitting down at the table. “Now I love you.”

“And you love Clarke,” she said, more a statement than a question.

“I’ll never  _ stop _ loving Clarke.” A beat. “Is that a problem?”

“It wouldn’t be,” Echo responded, sighing and joining him at the table. “Under any other circumstances.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means… that this relationship can’t continue.”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

“I know.”

A moment.

“Echo,” Bellamy began, “when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying.”

“I know,” she repeated.

“Then, why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you, too. But not how I know you’re loved. Not enough to watch you be with another woman for over a year and say absolutely nothing. Not enough to put myself through agony to see you happy. I’m not that good of a person. This is my way of trying to make up for that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Tell me honestly,” Echo said, leaning forward. “If you had to choose one person… to see, to talk to… if everyone else on earth was gone and you could only be with one person for the rest of your life, who would you choose?”

Bellamy looked down, biting his lip, but he said nothing. He didn’t have to.

Echo nodded. “Open your eyes, Bellamy. And talk to Clarke, for the love of God. You’re making everyone, including and especially yourself, miserable.”

She grabbed her bag and left, leaving Bellamy still staring at the grain of the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ended up being a LOT more echo than I was anticipating, but I like my headcanon echo and I'm seriously hoping canon echo pulls something similar
> 
> comments feed my family
> 
> come visit me on tumblr at fen-ha-fuck-you if you want


	3. Synthesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember when I said I was gonna have this out in a timely fashion? LMAO yeah, not likely. also, as per usual, this is unbeta-ed because i'm lazy
> 
> anyway enjoy this thrilling conclusion

Clarke was moping. There was really no better word for it. She’d fully isolated herself from her best friend for almost a month, and nothing had ever hurt more.

But there was nothing else she  _ could _ do. So she baked. She baked  _ a lot _ . 

It was something she and her dad had done, a lifetime ago. Whenever she’d had a bad day they’d make cookies, or brownies, or a pie. Anything, really, to get her mind off of whatever had upset her.

Clarke had baked more Sadness Dessert in the past month than she’d had any idea what to do with. She started giving most of it away to the homeless shelter down the street, and they’d seen her so often recently holding food with a pout on her face that everyone would throw their hands up and cheer when she walked in, just to get her to smile. It worked, if only for a moment.

As it was, she’d just slid a cookie sheet into the oven when there was a knock at her door.

“Just a second!” she called out, removing her oven mitt and untying her apron—navy blue with an ironically appropriate, [“On the bright side, I am not addicted to cocaine,”](https://i3.cpcache.com/product/2023507713/apron_dark.jpg?color=Navy&height=460&width=460&qv=90) printed on the front.

She lifted it over her head as she opened the door, freezing and mentally berating herself for not looking through the peephole beforehand.  _ That’s what it’s there for, idiot, to prevent this exact situation. _

“Echo,” she said, her throat tightening. “I, um… I... didn’t know you knew where I live.”

“I asked Raven for your address,” she responded, a hand around the strap of her bag. “May I?”

“Uh,” Clarke stammered, glancing at the mess of a kitchen behind her. “I… I guess?”

She stepped back, letting Echo inside and making a mental note to send a very long text to Raven containing a series of exclamation points and question marks.

“So,” Clarke said, hesitation clear in her voice. Echo sat herself down carefully on the edge of the couch. 

“I just broke up with Bellamy.”

“You…” Clarke cleared her throat and shook her head, her heart flip-flopping in her chest. “Um. Why?”

Echo sighed. 

“You’ve never liked me. And I don’t blame you for that,” she added before Clarke could interject. “I’ve been… judgemental. And rude. All without cause. I’ve never even  _ tried _ to like  _ you _ .”

Clarke leaned back against the counter, mind still reeling. Echo continued.

“You’ve never approved of me and Bellamy.”

Clarke opened her mouth to respond, but Echo cut her off. “He never noticed. At least… I don’t think he did. I find it hard to believe we’d have lasted as long as we did if he’d known.”

Echo paused, the slightest bit of emotion finally showing itself on her face. 

“He cares about you. Your opinion matters to him. He’d have broken things off the moment you told him you didn’t like me. But you never did.” 

“He was happy,” Clarke said quietly, looking down at her hands.

“Yeah,” Echo nodded. “Until a month ago.” 

Clarke slowly looked back up.

“For so long, I just wanted you to disappear, Clarke. I was tired of having to share him.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Clarke asked, her jaw clenched. 

“Because if you’d started avoiding him and I  _ hadn’t _ heard you in that bathroom... I’d have been okay with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered to me how important you are to him.” Echo stood and stepped closer. “ _ I _ would’ve been happy with you out of his life. It would’ve been killing him, just like it is now, and I would’ve been perfectly fine with that. But  _ you _ … you love him more than you love yourself.”

Clarke was frozen in place. “I… why are you here?” 

“Because you needed to know. You’re not in the way, Clarke.  _ I _ was. Bellamy deserves to be happy, yes. But more than that, he deserves someone who  _ wants _ him to be, no matter what. I’m not that person.” 

Echo walked back to the door without another word.

“Echo,” Clarke said gently.

She paused with her hand on the knob, saying nothing.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t,” Echo replied, her voice strong. “This is an apology. To both of you. I don’t want your thanks, and I don’t deserve it.” 

She swung the door open at that, startling slightly when she came face to face with an equally surprised Bellamy, his fist frozen in the air as if he was about to knock. Echo’s shock lasted only a moment before a small smile found its way onto her face.

“Good. Talk,” she ordered before brushing passed him as she exited.

Bellamy and Clarke both stood there silently. His arm slowly dropped. She fiddled with her fingers. 

“Hey,” Bellamy said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. 

“Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

Clarke nodded, busying herself with the scattered bowls and whisks on her counter. She heard the door close, and Bellamy’s footsteps as they stopped a few feet from her.

“Clarke.”

She turned to look at him, and her heart broke for what felt like the millionth time when she saw the look on his face. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Her brows furrowed and she shook her head slightly, but he continued on.

“Please tell me what I did. I want to make up for it. Whatever I did to push you away... Clarke, I’m so sorry. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you or make you feel like you can’t talk to me,  _ especially _ about things that I’ve done to hurt you—”

“Bellamy,” Clarke stopped him, placing her hand on his forearm. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“What?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Bellamy. I just…  _ I’m _ sorry,” Clarke said, ducking her head, her hand dropping.

“I don’t understand.”

“I needed space.”

“From me?”

When she looked back up again, she found him already looking at her, guilt written all over him.

“Not from  _ you _ ,” she corrected. “From… you and Echo.”

Bellamy said nothing, but his brows furrowed in obvious confusion.

Clarke sighed. “She...  _ overheard _ a private conversation I was having with Raven. I figured it was best to keep my distance.”

“What does that mean? Did  _ she _ tell you to—”

“No, Bellamy…,” she sighed again. “It’s not important.”

“Yes, it is,” Bellamy argued, his voice finally gaining strength. “Clarke, you’re… god,  _ best friend _ doesn’t even  _ begin _ to cover what you mean to me. So, yeah, I consider anything that makes you feel like you can’t be around me, pretty damn important.”

And with that declaration, Clarke felt her resolve waiver, and the remainder of her walls come crumbling down. 

“I’m in love with you,” she whispered, her lips hardly moving. Bellamy froze.

“... what?” 

Clarke took a deep, shuddering breath. “Echo heard me telling Raven that I’m in love with you. Well,” she breathed out a humorless laugh, looking down to her hands. “More like having a breakdown over how in love with you I am.”

“You’re in love with me.”

“I didn’t want to cause problems, or make it seem like I was trying to… I don’t know, steal you away or something. So, I just…” she shrugged helplessly.

“What did she say?”

“Something about my privacy—”

“Not then.” Clarke looked back up at his decisive tone, to find him taking a step closer. “Just now, what did she say?”

“That…,” Clarke swallowed. “She broke up with you?” 

“That’s it?”

“Uh… that I was never in the way.”

“Did she tell you  _ why _ we broke up?”

“No… not exactly.”

Bellamy took two more steps, leaving no more than a foot of space between them.

“Because  _ I’m _ in love with  _ you _ .”

Clarke’s lips parted as she blinked once, twice, three times in quick succession. 

“You are?”

“For a while now, yeah,” Bellamy nodded, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I never thought you’d feel the same way. For some reason, I thought using someone else to try and get over  _ you _ was something that would  _ actually _ work.”

“Yeah, well,” Clarke smiled. “I ran away and barricaded myself in my apartment instead of saying anything, so… I’m not really one to talk.”

“So, we’re just a couple of idiots who could’ve been together this whole time, huh?”

“Looks that way.”

The two grinned at each other, slowly moving together. Bellamy raised his hand to cup her jaw, and she placed hers on his shoulder, standing on her tiptoes to bring herself closer.  Their noses brushed together, and as their lips hovered a centimeter apart—

_ DING!  _ The oven timer went off, resounding through the apartment.

Bellamy’s eyes shut and he huffed out a frustrated breath as his forehead dropped to Clarke’s. She chuckled, and he shook his head, amused.

Consciously refusing to stop herself, Clarke wrapped her arms around Bellamy’s neck and buried her face in his shoulder, breathing him in for the first time in a month. She felt his arms wrap around her in return, one hand at the base of her neck and the other clutching her shirt.

“I really missed you,” she whispered into him. 

“I missed you, too, Princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give me a mirror of this in canon echo or give me death  
> also for those of you like me who get Very Worried™ whenever things like this are not addressed: clarke got the cookies out of the oven before they burned and bellamy and clarke sat on her couch gazing at each other with heart eyes while they ate every single one before passing out in a disgustingly cute bundle of blankets
> 
> comments feed my family
> 
> come visit me on tumblr at [fen-ha-fuck-you](fen-ha-fuck-you.tumblr.com) if you want


End file.
